


A Cold Day In July

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Emotional Comfort, Gen, Loss, Mourning, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you do something to help someone, don't be surprised if they help you in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Day In July

She hadn't expected it to hit her so hard. It wasn't the first time a colleague had died, not the first funeral of a co-worker she'd attended. And what had happened was a long time ago, ancient history. 'In another life', wasn't that what she had told Morgan?

Still. Erin had been young, and more than that she'd been a Suit, a bureaucrat, not an agent. Maybe there was a reason she'd stayed out of the field.

Alex was sitting in the back of one of the limousines that had brought the mourners to the cemetery. The service had been an elegant one, with the minister asking for Erin's friends and family to offer a few remarks. The brunette had thought of volunteering, but when she was halfway out of her chair she realized she had nothing to say. Nothing appropriate, anyway. Ironic, considering that words were her specialty, but her words had fled, retreated into a nameless feeling, something she couldn't define. 

The car was a close environment. David was on one side of her, Spencer on the other. And the younger of the two men kept giving her these little _looks_ , his gaze flicking towards her only to turn away after a second or two. As if he could see what she was feeling, and when _she_ didn't even know what she was feeling, she wished he'd enlighten her. The cars reached the church, and the little group split up, reclaiming their own vehicles. They were going to Rossi's house for drinks and talk, a private wake of their own. Alex sat behind the wheel of her car, considered not going.

It wasn't that Spencer knew what Alex felt. Like him, she was cerebral enough that emotions could get buried under logic. But he was intuitive enough that he could see something was going on. He remembered her calm support when Maeve died, the way she'd shored him up. He took her friendship very seriously. And if he was remembering the past, the way he'd tried to reach out to Elle when she was struggling, then so be it. Alex had helped him, and he wanted to pay it forward and to be able to do some good this time.

The smaller party reached Dave's house, and one by one the team members filed inside. The younger profiler noticed that Alex was still sitting in her car, looking at the front door without getting out. The day was cold but not too cold. Leaves crunched under his shoes as he walked around to the passenger door, and it opened and then closed as he took up the space next to her. She wasn't necessarily surprised. They looked at each other.

"Alex?"

His voice was wary, and his fingers plucked at the fabric of his dress pants. He liked her, and more than that he respected her. Hazel eyes focused on the linguist in the midst of an uncertain expression. 

"Are you all right?"

"I don't know. No. I don't know."

The silence stretched out, and she was thinking back on happier times. She and Erin had been friends once, in the days before and during Amerithrax. More than friends. Yes, when things went bad, it hadn't been a shock to her. The politics behind the job had taken their toll, and Alex had ended up out in the cold because Erin had cut her rope. The brunette was looking through the car's windshield. Spencer was a silent presence next to her.

"I didn't expect it to feel like this. This...sharpness, the sense of loss. I didn't expect it."

He was looking at her in profile, and his fingers were still restless. "We all grieve differently. You knew Strauss for a long time, before any of the rest of us. You knew her as more than the Chief, the boss." What he could see of her expression shifted a fraction. He'd gotten his hair cut before the funeral, and he ran his left hand over the newly short style. 

"Erin."

"What?"

"Erin," Alex repeated. She was still looking at the closed door of Rossi's house. Her voice was quiet, and there was just the threat of a quaver underneath it. Spencer shifted in the passenger seat, tried to see her face more fully, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "She may have been 'Strauss' to you, but I only called her 'Erin'."

"Alex..." Comprehension was dawning. The younger profiler looked away, through the clean glass of the car window. Leaves were still falling from the trees, drifting on the breeze until they hit the ground to lie in colorful disarray. Soon the branches would be bare, at least until spring came again. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then faced her. She was looking back at him steadily, but her cheeks were wet.

' _For one moment, I was the happiest I'd ever been, and then it was over._ '

"I'm so sorry." He dug into the pocket of his seasonal coat for a tissue and offered it to her. After a second, Alex accepted it.

"So was I. So _am_ I didn't get the chance to tell her I forgive her, or to say goodbye. I didn't feel that way about her anymore when I came back, but that's not the point. The only regret worse than doing something and wishing you hadn't is not doing something and wishing you had when it's too late."

"Hey."

Spencer was touching Alex's shoulder now, his hand alighting on the coarse cloth of her coat. She was looking down at her hands, at her wedding ring. Remembering. _Regretting_. Another tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away impatiently.

"I didn't think it would hurt."

"Sometimes you have to let it," Spencer said, and he was recalling how she'd briefly chase away the gloom when she would come by. They'd play chess and talk, or play chess and not talk, and gradually the sorrow eased and the world became bright again. She'd helped him then. He wanted to help her now.

Alex looked at his earnest face, and she smiled, although it was a wobbly effort. "Yes, it's a cliche," he said with a nod, and his right shoulder went up and down in a shrug. "But grief is a process, and it isn't as if you can get it wrong. I know you're smart enough to realize that." Her smile tried to firm up.

"You're a good friend. What happened...that was a long time ago. But I'm glad you care enough to let me talk."

"It's the least I owe you. I was not in a good place when....well, you know. You helped me out of that black hole. I never really thanked you for that."

She covered his hand with her own. Regret was not the same thing as grief, but she'd never told anyone before, not until now. Knowing that she could trust him made it easier.

"Come on, let's go inside. They're probably wondering what happened to us." She'd dried her cheeks and tossed the tissue into the plastic bag she used for trash. She felt steadier now.

He opened his door, and as when they reached the porch, she paused before she knocked. He looked at her questioningly. She was looking up at the pale blue sky.

"I miss her."

"I know."


End file.
